Chapter 8
893 Words
Chloe’s pov
The carriage rocked to a stop, and the gates of the Red Moon pack rose in front of me, twice the height of anything back in Twilight, iron-banded and silent.
My hand found the hidden pocket in my skirt where the herbs and the dagger sat wrapped in cloth, and I pressed my palm flat against them once before I stepped down. The air smelled different here, pine and woodsmoke instead of the damp stone of my father's house, and my legs felt unsteady on ground that wasn't mine.
Two women waited at the top of the stairs. The older one had Nash's same dark hair streaked through with silver, her posture straight enough to belong to royalty. The younger one bounced on her heels beside her, grinning like she'd been waiting all day for me to arrive.
"You must be Chloe." The older woman came down to meet me before I'd even crossed the courtyard, both hands closing warm around mine. "I'm Alma. Nash's mother. This is his sister, Jill."
"It's so good to finally meet you." Jill grabbed my other hand before I could respond, practically pulling me up the stairs. "We've been dying to have someone new around here. Come on, I want to show you your room."
I let them steer me inside, too stunned by the warmth of it to do much besides follow. I'd braced myself for cold stares and suspicion, the same reception I got everywhere in Twilight, and instead I got a woman squeezing my hand like she meant it and a girl chattering about paint colors before we'd even reached the second floor.
Nobody in that stairwell looked at me like a burden to be tolerated. I didn't know what to do with that yet, so I just kept walking.
The room Alma had prepared for me was larger than anything I'd ever slept in, soft light pooling gold across a bed piled with quilts, a fire already crackling in the hearth. Jill crossed straight to the nightstand and lifted a small dish holding a pale, fragrant powder.
"I made this myself." She held it up, pleased with herself. "Incense. New places are hard to sleep in, so I thought it might help. Burn it before bed and it should knock you right out."
"Thank you." I turned the dish over in my hands, "That's really thoughtful."
"This is Ray." Jill waved a young woman forward from the doorway, dark-haired and quiet, hands folded in front of her apron. "She'll be looking after you from now on. Anything you need, day or night, just ask her."
Ray dipped her head. "It's an honor to serve you."
"Thank you," I said again, meaning it more than I expected to. Nobody in my father's house had ever been assigned to look after me. I'd learned to manage everything myself before I was old enough to reach the top shelf in the kitchen.
That evening, Ray brought a tray up to my room instead of making me sit through a formal dinner downstairs, and I was grateful for it. I lifted the cover off the plate and breathed in the rich, roasted scent of herbs I didn't recognize, and the first bite melted on my tongue in a way that made me pause mid-chew.
"This is incredible." I looked up at her, and she was still standing near the door, hands clasped. "Did you make this yourself?"
Her cheeks went pink, and she ducked her head. "It's nothing. Just a family recipe."
"It's not nothing. It's the best thing I've eaten in years." I took another bite before I trusted myself to keep talking, savoring it slower this time. "Is everyone here always this kind to guests, or am I a special case?"
"We don't get many guests." Ray's mouth curved, a little shy. "Alma likes taking care of people. Jill's the same way, just louder about it."
"Will I see Nash tonight?"
"He's dealing with pack business tonight. Territory disputes, mostly." She folded her hands tighter. "I doubt you'll cross paths before tomorrow."
"That's fine." The relief in my own voice surprised me a little.
She tilted her head, studying me like she'd caught a feeling I hadn't meant to show. "You don't want to see him?"
"Everyone back home says he's dangerous." I set my fork down. "That he kills wolves who cross him and marrying him is a death sentence."
Ray smiled at that, and shook her head like she'd heard the claim a hundred times before. "People say a lot of things because it's easier than knowing someone. He's a good man, whatever the stories claim."
"Is that true?" I studied her face, looking for the flattery I'd expect from anyone paid to serve him.
She only smiled wider, gathering the empty dishes onto her tray without answering directly. "You'll have plenty of time to find out for yourself. The two of you have a whole life ahead to spend figuring each other out."
"That's not really an answer."
"No," Ray agreed, unbothered, "it isn't." She balanced the tray against her hip and paused at the door, glancing back at me with an expression I couldn't quite read, half amusement, half a secret she wasn't ready to share. "Sleep well, Chloe. Try the incense Jill made you. It really does help."
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